


Pink Icing

by neilmackays



Category: Taron Egerton - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe, Baker!Taron, F/M, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-07
Updated: 2016-05-07
Packaged: 2018-06-06 23:51:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,437
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6775216
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/neilmackays/pseuds/neilmackays
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Eira stumbles upon a quaint bakery deep in the streets of Aberystwyth.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pink Icing

**Author's Note:**

> This is a combination of late night/early morning discussion with my main @ladyiszy and this post on Tumblr: http://egertonaf.tumblr.com/post/143791594093/auaesthetics-taron-egerton-as-a-bakery

_Aberystwyth._

She stood in front of the window in her new apartment, coffee cup held in both of her hands, the steam rising up past her face as she gazed out into the fog. The raindrops slid down the window, but despite the grim look of outside, she couldn’t help but smile. A new city, a new job – a new start.

She turned to head back to the kitchen, setting her now empty mug on the counter. She couldn’t believe the deal she’d snagged with this apartment – it was tiny, and it was old, but it was everything she wanted. Dark mahogany floors, a perfectly sized kitchen for one, and her favourite part – the small living room with windows that had views over the next couple of sloping streets with their colourful houses, and out to the seashore beyond.

Her job didn’t start until Monday, and she had vowed that today she would wander around the cute seaside town that had become her new home. She slipped on her raincoat and boots, locking the door behind her, before venturing down the old wooden stairs and out onto the street. She walked at a slow pace down the hill towards the harbourfront, pulling her hood up to shield her face. When she reached downtown, she walked straight, stopping every now and again to observe window displays. She weaved in and out of the small streets, hugging the walls as cars passed by, smiling at strangers as she went. She wasn’t sure where she was, but she didn’t care.

It had been at least an hour when she turned down a side street, and was met a couple of buildings down with a light blue building that had the words _Rockrose Bakery_ painted on the window. She wasn’t sure what enticed her to go inside – she’d seen a good number of bakeries on her walk – but when she stepped in, she was incredibly glad she had.

The smell of fresh bread filled the air, and the pastries, cakes and cookies in the display case looked _amazing_. It wasn’t a big bakery by any means – light blue walls on the inside, just enough room for three or four tables along the wall opposite the cash. There was no one else inside, it seemed, and she gazed into the glass case aimlessly, her stomach rumbling.

She jumped in surprise when the kitchen door to the left of the cash register opened suddenly, and she was greeted by a startled looking young man carrying a tray of cupcakes.

“Oh, hello!” His face quickly changed from surprised to a genuine smile, and she couldn’t stop the way her stomach did a little flip as he added, “Good morning to ya.”

The man standing in front of her was absolutely gorgeous. He was about her age, with blond hair and blue eyes, broad shoulders - and a black apron tied around his waist. His smile, though, was the worst part. It was dazzling… and she was entirely captivated.

He used his free hand to open the glass case from behind, sliding the tray of cupcakes into the only empty spot left. He wiped his hands on the apron as he turned back to her, offering her another smile.

“What can I get for you today?”

She shook herself back to reality, turning back to the pastries, and observed them all again. After a moment, she realized there was no use in trying to think logically about a decision in that very moment, and she pointed out a couple of random things to the man.

“They all look amazing,” she felt the need to say, and the man beamed over the counter at her as he slid a brownie into a paper bag.

“Thank you,” he said genuinely. As he reached for a chocolate éclair, he added, “You picked some good ones.”

She laughed. “I bet you say that about every single thing.”

“Well they’re all my own creations, so…” He sent a grin her way.

She raised her eyebrows, hoisting her purse higher up on her shoulder. “You made all of these yourself?” She asked incredulously.

“Mhm. Why, do I not look like a baker?” She sensed the teasing tone in his voice, but she still couldn’t help the blush that spread across her cheeks.

“You’re just… Young, that’s all.”

“I’m 26, to be exact.” He stood up straight from grabbing the last pastry, a raspberry filled Danish, and held her gaze for a moment. She felt her stomach do that silly flip again as she realized that he had said that specifically for her knowledge.

As she opened her wallet to grab change, she watched out of the corner of her eye as he crossed his arms and leaned against the glass case.

“I’ve never seen you around here,” he said thoughtfully after a moment, and she looked up in surprise. “It’s a small town, love, everyone knows everyone.”

“Right,” she laughed, embarrassed. She turned back to her wallet, pulling the coins out. “I’m from Cardiff – not as big as London, mind you, but bigger than this, that’s for sure.”

“How are you liking it here?” The man asked as she handed him the change and he began to count it.

“I love it so far,” she said genuinely.

“Even with this shit weather?” He said it with a smile, and she could tell that he was incredibly fond of the town. “It’s beautiful here, innit.”

She nodded, and there was an awkward pause before she smiled over at him and, with bags in hand, turned towards the door.

“I’m Taron, by the way.”

She threw a smile back over her shoulder, and replied, “I’m Eira.”

“Ah. Snow.”

“Sorry?”

“ _Eira_. It’s Welsh for snow.”

She stared at him for a moment, before a smile spread across her lips. She nodded slowly. “Yeah, you’re right.” He shrugged, but she could tell by the smile on his lips that he was proud of himself.

“It was nice to meet you, Eira,” he said, and she beamed back at him.

“You too… Taron.”

* * *

 

For the next month, Eira stopped by the _Rockrose_ on her way to work nearly every day. Taron was always there, ready to greet her with her favourite in stock – she had tried nearly everything in the store now, and her official favourite was his pink iced donut recipe – and a brilliant smile to send her on her way. As she had gotten to know the man through those sleepy morning conversations, she’d come to find him a cheeky, charming young man, with a knack for making people smile. The regulars loved him – despite the emptiness of that first day, since then, there was always at least one other person in the bakery before her – and she could see why. She found out that he had been born in Anglesey, but had grown up in Aberystwyth, and had opened his own bakery when he was just 24. He talked about his mum all the time – “ _she’d love you”_ , he’d told her once, and she’d very nearly dropped her donut - and when Eira had finally met her, she’d been in awe. His mum was beautiful, inside and out – she could see where Taron got his personality from. And if Eira hadn’t been falling for the blond baker yet, she was gone, without a doubt, when she saw the kiss Taron gave his mum when she had walked through the door.

* * *

“You always tell me that you wish you could bake.”

Eira turned to Taron with raised eyebrows, from where she sat at one of the tables in the bakery. She had a bit of time that morning before running off to work, and she’d sat down to enjoy her donut in peace before rushing out.

“That’s true,” came her reply.

He leaned forward, his elbows on the counter. “I’m gonna be teaching a class next week. Wednesday night. You should come.”

Eira’s mouth fell open in disbelief. “You’re kidding. You _do_ that?”

Taron laughed. “Every year since I started.”

“You opened two years ago, Taron.”

He sent her a mock glare, and she laughed. “So I take it the _two_ you’ve done have had a good turn out, then?’

He nodded, grabbing the rag he’d been using earlier to clean the counter and throwing it over his shoulder. “The old folks love it,” he explained. “And it’s always a good laugh.”

She glanced at her watch, quickly swallowing the last of her donut and chucking the paper bag into the garbage. As she picked up her purse to leave, he called out after her.

“Is that a yes?”

She pushed open the door with her shoulder, the bell letting out a _ding_ as she called back, “Yes.”

* * *

Eira could not believe the amount of fun she was having. She was awful at baking, mind you – there was flour _everywhere_ and she was sure there were eggshells in her batter – but she could honestly not remember the last time she’d laughed so hard that her stomach hurt. It was a beautiful thing.

They were in a small room in the community rec centre for Taron’s baking class, and she was surprised at the turn out – there were at least 15 of them, including her, as well as mostly older folk and some mothers with children. Everyone was laughing and smiling, and there was no doubt in Eira’s mind it was because of Taron. She had observed him interacting with everyone during the whole class – when he’d reached the 8-year old girl and her mother at the table to her left, she’d nearly combusted at how cute he’d been.

“Alright, everyone lay your batter out on the table,” Taron instructed, and Eira did as she was told, lifting it from the bowl. “Use your rolling pin to flatten it out.”

Eira was surprised at how hard she found it to use the roller. The batter was fairly thick, and it only took a moment for her arms to ache.

“Y’alright?”

She jumped as Taron spoke from beside her, and she turned to him with a sigh.

“It’s harder than it looks.”

He laughed. “Show me how you were doing it.” She pursed her lips, turning back to the pin and placing her hands on either side. She gripped the handles tight, pushing forward and pulling back, and she could see Taron shake his head from out of the corner of her eye. “You have to let your hand flow with the roller,” he explained. He moved closer, placing his hand over hers, and he used his fingers to gently pry hers off of the handle.

She could hardly breathe.

Her heart was pounding as he gently pushed against her hand. “Don’t grip it,” he said quietly in her ear, and she was sure her heart would burst out of her chest. “Your fingers should be in the air while you’re rolling it.” She nodded, doing as he said, but she wasn’t sure how she managed to do so when all she could think about was how close he was.

He finally let go and stepped away from her with a satisfied hum, moving to the next table to observe. It took a good long while for Eira to calm herself down – and if anyone had asked her about the end of class the next day, there’s no way she have told them what it had been about.

* * *

It wasn’t until a few days later that Eira returned to the  _Rockrose_ . When she entered, Taron’s face lit up completely, and her heart jumped again at the realization. She was in deep, and she knew it.

“The usual?”

She nodded, and as he turned to grab the donut for her, she leaned against the counter.

“Was starting to worry I’d lost your business.”

She turned back to face him from where she’d absentmindedly been reading the ingredient list of a hazelnut cake. “That would never happen.”

“I’m glad.” Taron smiled over at her, handing her the donut and ringing her in. As she counted her change, she could see him lift a finger to scratch his jaw. After she handed him the change, he stared down at it, and she could see him bite his lip. “You’re getting into an awful bad habit, eating donuts for breakfast every day,” he finally said, and she was taken aback. She hadn’t been expecting him to say that, and she let out a laugh.

“I guess I just don’t have time to make myself breakfast.”

He nodded, finally opening the till and dropping the change inside. He paused before speaking again.

“Well, I can’t really fix that, since I’m here every morning…” he paused again, and she held her breath. He was avoiding her eyes, and she wasn’t sure where he was going with this. He finally let the next words out in a rush. “But if you want, I can take you to dinner sometime? I mean, only if you want. If you don’t want to, then obviously that’s fine-“

“I’d love that, Taron,” she interrupted quietly, and he finally met her eyes. A relieved smile spread across his face, and he let out an embarrassed laugh, lifting a hand up to scratch the back of his neck.

“Great. How about Tuesday night? We close up around 6, so we could meet up at 6:30?”

Eira nodded, biting her lip to keep from grinning ear to ear. “That’s perfect.”

“Do you know where _Larose_ is? It’s a couple of streets over, by the waterfront.”

She nodded. “I walk past it every day on my way here.”

“Okay. Great,” he repeated, and she was sure she was blushing as she turned to head out the door.

“I’ll see you then,” she called out over her shoulder.

* * *

Eira sat by the window inside  _Larose_ , biting her thumbnail as she looked out at the waterfront. The lights from the lampposts were shining on the boardwalk, and she could see the dark waves sliding up along the shore. She glanced at her watch again –  _6:40._

He didn’t seem the type to stand someone up. Then again, she’d never really had good luck with guys. _If it reaches 7:00 and he hasn’t shown, I’ll leave_ , she told herself.

It was nearing 6:45 when the door opened and he rushed in and over to her table, apologizing profusely. As he rambled on and on about being late closing up and the customer who’d demanded the rest of his stock for the day in the last 2 minutes, all she could do was smile. After a moment, he finally stopped talking when she leaned across the table and gently brushed some flour out of his hair.

* * *

“I don’t bring every girl here on the first date,” Taron teased as he held open the door for her to walk into the  _Rockrose_ .

“I feel so special,” she replied with sarcasm, and Taron grinned as he flipped on the lights.

“You should.”

They entered into the kitchen, and Taron headed over to the fridge.

“I’m going to need you to close your eyes,” he instructed, holding the fridge door half open. She rolled her eyes but relented, leaning against the table and closing her eyes.

“Okay, this is my new cake recipe,” he explained, and she raised her eyebrows in surprise. “Don’t open your eyes,” he said again, and she let out a hum of acknowledgment. She opened her mouth as he slid the fork forward, and she took the cake into her mouth. She couldn’t help the grin that spread across her lips as she chewed and then swallowed.

“This is just a pink icing donut, Egerton.”

He let out a scoff, and she opened her eyes. “It’s a pink icing donut _cake_ ,” he clarified, and she couldn’t help but laugh. He grinned back at her, and she shook her head. “I made an entire cake with that recipe just for you tonight,” he said in mock disappointment, “and you don’t even appreciate it.”

She ignored the butterflies that filled her stomach at the words ‘ _just for you_ ’, and smiled across at him. “I appreciate it more than you know.”

“Good. Because I absolutely _slaved_ over it.”

She rolled her eyes at that, before she reached over and flicked a bit of the flour from the table at him, and his mouth opened in shock.

“So that’s how it is, then?”

“That’s how it is.”

She winked, and he nodded, taking a step back and reaching behind him. She began to protest and apologize as she realized what he was doing, but his hand came back into view with a bag of flour in his palm. He cocked an eyebrow, and she began to back up, holding her hands up in surrender. He grinned, before reaching into the bag of flour and stepping around the table towards her. She turned to run in the opposite direction, but he flicked the flour across the table, and it landed in her hair. She gasped, and turned back to him.

“It’s on,” she said after a moment, deadpan, and Taron’s grin widened even more as she grabbed her own bag of flour.

Their flour fight lasted at least ten minutes, and by the end of it, they both had flour all over their clothes and in their hair. He finally managed to trap her, and she was cornered against the fridge. They both had empty bags, now, and she let hers drop to the floor with a breathy laugh.

“Admit defeat.”

She couldn’t help but let out another laugh as he spoke, because he was so serious as he did. He raised an eyebrow, taking another step towards her, and she held up her hands in front of her.

“Alright, alright. I’m defeated,” she said, and Taron grinned.

“I always win.”

It was silent between them as they stood there, chests heaving from running around the kitchen. The mood shifted in the silence, and Eira stared up at him. He had moved even closer, and she could hardly breathe. She felt like she did when he got close to her in the baking class, but this was ten times more intense. He still had a smile on his lips, but his blue eyes were serious as he took a final step towards her. He searched her face for a moment, before his hand lifted to rest on her cheek. Chills shot down her spine as his thumb moved across and down her jaw, before he gently brushed some flour off of her lower lip. She held her breath, and his thumb moved back to her jaw as he met her eyes one more time, before his lips found hers.

The kiss was soft, and gentle, and warm, and she never wanted it to end. Her hand lifted as if to hold him in place as he opened his mouth against hers slowly, and she melted into him. When he broke apart a moment later, her eyes remained closed until she heard him whisper a quiet, “Damn.”

* * *

The regulars were thrilled when they found out.

“We knew it would happen soon enough,” they claimed, and Eira would blush every time they mentioned it.

It was inevitable that she would soon come to help out at the shop whenever she could, and she even found that she was good at baking. So good, in fact, that some of the regulars even started calling the shop _Leek and Rockrose_ , after her native region’s flower. This made her blush, but it only made Taron proud.

* * *

He told her he loved her early one morning when they were baking together side by side in the bakery kitchen.

“They should have you flogged on the street for making such a mess,” she had scolded, and he’d raised an eyebrow with a cheeky smirk on his lips.

“Naked?” He had wiggled his eyebrows as he leaned forward, and she had let out a snort, lifting a hand to push his face away. He had only laughed, to which she’d finally joined in and then let him kiss her, right there in the middle of the kitchen – because she always gave in to him. And it was then, mid-kiss, covered in flour and batter, that he’d said it.

“I adore you,” had come first, followed by a quick, “I mean it. I am so in love with you.”

She’d been surprised, and then elated. She’d murmured the words back against his lips, before reaching behind him and dumping an entire bag of flour onto his head.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you guys liked it! This is my first time posting on this site... Hope you enjoyed!
> 
> PS: the name of the bakery (Rockrose) comes from the regional flower of Anglesey, where Taron is from!


End file.
